It's been a couple of years since I've been able to really stop and take in, what I'll call, "nowness". The mania and pressure and dread of the rest of the year has given way (at least for two weeks) to multiple moments of quiet.

Times when my son and I can lay on our backs in the yard (long after bedtime), looking up at the designs made by the leaves and branches of our massive black walnut trees.

Times in the middle of the night when I have to carry said son downstairs so that he won't wet the bed. As I flop him back down on his bed and cover him up to his chin, I can stop and hold his little soft head in my hands and give him a kiss on the temple.


Times when my daughter - even while in the midst of an anti-me phase - stops to tell me that she missed me while I was out for the morning.


So far this summer, these some of the times that I've stopped myself from worrying about the mound of laundry that continually needs washing and folding and putting away. I've been able to momentarily block out the negative mark before our bank account balance and remind myself, "Remember this. Remember right now."